


Tenera

by eag



Series: Fortunae Plango Vulnera [9]
Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Mad Max: Fury Road
Genre: Coil mourns his former crewmate, Drivers and Lancers, F/M, Friendship, Furiosa and Coil, Gen, Other, Socially Awkward Teenaged Furiosa, The Ace plots in the background, War Boy Furiosa, War Boy Society, War Boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-04-30 20:21:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5178362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eag/pseuds/eag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While the Ace may have taught Furiosa the practical aspects of the world of the Citadel, Coil is the one who helps introduce her to War Boy society.</p><p>Character explorations: Furiosa's early relationship with Coil, her first crewmate and Driver.  From their first run to Bartertown together to the beginnings of their friendship.  </p><p>Overlaps chronologically with <i>Furiosa</i> and <i>Vulnera</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _“You can't keep her by your side all the time. Sooner or later, the Bartertown run's gonna come up and you're gonna be on the Rig and she's gonna be all alone in the Citadel...You can't watch her forever,” the Prime hissed to Ace as he walked away._
> 
> _Furiosa darted Ace a nervous glance, and he shrugged._
> 
> _“Can't watch you forever, Furiosa. That's true.”_
> 
> _“Then that means...” And she shuddered, putting down her spoon._
> 
> _“Whatever it means, it don't mean I can't think ahead.” Ace gave her a wink, and tapped his grease-blackened forehead. “Got some ideas.”_
> 
> [Furiosa](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4246143)

**The Open Waste, on the road to Bartertown**

 

“Oi, Lancer. Lancer?” A hand closed lightly on her shoulder. “Furiosa?”

Furiosa jerked awake; somehow in the lantern-lit darkness, she had fallen asleep leaning over the warm engine.

“Lancer, what are you doing?” Coil looked at her curiously; there was no sign of accusation in the Driver's voice, just good-natured concern.

“Nothing, nothing." Embarrassed, Furiosa finished tightening the last of the bolts and ducked out, trying to and failing to stifle a yawn. 

Coil took up the lantern and she shut the hood. It closed with a satisfying thud.

“Have you slept at all?” Coil raised the lantern to reveal the dark smudges beneath her eyes.

“Um.” Furiosa looked away, afraid of his anger.

Suddenly Coil laughed. “Of course you haven't. You're too responsible. All right, come on. Let me show you a lancer trick, and then we'll bed down for the night.” Coil gestured for her to follow.

 

“So when you're in the basket, you take your top belt...” Coil paused, glancing at her waist. “Oh. Oh no. No, this is my fault. Lancer, I am so sorry.” Coil fussed, undoing his belt. “This is your first run, isn't it? Should have said more, should have given you more direction. You're just so good at all this; I thought you would know. And look at you, you're so new that you don't have a top belt yet.”

Frozen with fear, Furiosa's eyes darted around; there was nowhere to run in the deep, complete darkness around the car. Without the moon, not even the convoy could move, and besides, where would she go? All around were other cars, some with their lanterns lit, some in darkness and the War Rig, and beyond that the open waste.

But Coil merely took off the upper double looped belt, the one that was made from two thick belts sewn together and sat mostly useless on his waist.

“Here, take mine. It's not like I have any use for it now. I've had this one since I was a Revhead, so it should fit.”

Cautiously, Furiosa took it from him, and slipped it around her waist.

It was still warm from the heat of his body.

She cinched it around her waist, securing in the ends.

“All right, let me show you, Lancer.” Coil offered Furiosa his hand, firm and warm, and helped her up onto the back perch.

“See that metal clip on the front of the belt? You clip it to the basket's support strut, the one in the middle, and then you lean against the curve of the cab. That way you can take tiny Lancer naps up top without worrying about falling off. If there's any real trouble, you'll hear it from the War Rig; the horn'll sound and wake you. Or I could yell at you myself. You're not a heavy sleeper, are you?”

“No.”

“Good, so nap when you can.”

“I thought we weren't supposed to sleep on the road.”

“Lancer, that's an ideal that no one is expected to match.” Coil shook his head. “Rules are rules, but sometimes they're impossible to follow. There are always workarounds, and the more you do this, you'll find there are big stretches of road that are safe as nests. Really the only one who's not allowed to sleep while the car is running is the Driver. Now come on, we're going to bed. We got five, six hours before we head out again; it's time to get some sleep.”

“It's okay, I'm fine.”

“That's the order, Lancer.”

 

Coil paused before the driver-side door, his hand on the metal frame of the car. “Lancer. Yesterday, what were you doing when we were supposed to be resting?”

“Cooling off the engine. Checking the car. Cutting my hair and touching up the white.”

“Ah. And how long did that take you? Each task.”

“Um. two minutes. Sixteen minutes. And uh.”

“Say it.”

“Two hours?” Furiosa winced, afraid Coil would be mad, but then it would be better than being alone in the car with him. Perhaps if she was lucky, he'd let her sleep leaning on the cab in the lancer's basket. The wind blew cold, but it would be better than risking whatever he wanted in the confines of the car.

But then, her life was already in his hands; Coil was the Driver, and whatever he wanted...

Furiosa found herself tense, trembling, and it was not from the icy wind.

“Two? Hours?” Coil doubled over laughing. Ashamed, Furiosa looked away, embarrassed that he was making light of her.

“Oh, Lancer! You're more responsible than any War Boy I've ever known!” Coil choked back his laughter. “No, listen: tomorrow night, before we make the last leg to Bartertown, the convoy stops and we all fix each other up. Takes a few minutes each. Then we sleep when the moon's down, and when it's bright again, we get going. Lancer, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to laugh. I wasn't laughing at you, I swear. Just at the situation. It's not your fault; it's mine. Just...I don't know what I was thinking. We should have really talked more about what I expected from you and what we do on the road. Your first run being your first Bartertown run.” Coil shook his head. “You just seemed so together. Thought you knew it all already.” He opened the door for her. The Driver's seat was already reclined down flat. “Come on, get in.”

She hesitated. The lantern showed his muscled form, his broad shoulders and narrow waist, but it didn't show enough of his expression to tell his intentions.

“Lancer...” Coil shook his head. “The night wind is going to get in and make the cab cold. Get in.”

Furiosa had no choice; he was the Driver, the crew lead for their crew of two, and if he gave the order, she had to follow. She remembered; that was what the Ace had told her. 

Tense and afraid, she got in, the seat warm and springy beneath her.

“Move over.” And Coil pointed her to the narrow floor beside the Driver's seat.

“Oh! Sorry.” She quickly moved off his seat and got over, and here she was trapped; his car's exhaust pipes ran over the passenger side door, effectively welding it shut. 

“So there should be two blankets down there. Take one and put it under you, and give me the other one, all right?”

“Yes, Driver.” She handed him one of the blankets and did as he said, spreading out the other blanket awkwardly over the cold metal floor, smoothing it as best she could, all the while wondering what he wanted from her. Outside the car, he seemed friendly, companionable even, but in the confines of the car she was palpably aware of his presence, of the danger implied in his heavy muscles and firm, calloused hands.

“All right.” And suddenly, there was a sharp motion, the sound of quick movement and she flinched, but it was merely a blanket coming down over her, with a little whoosh of displaced air.

“Sorry, they don't usually give more than two blankets per car. That means we'll have to share. Make sure you cover yourself proper; tuck the bottom one in around your sides and make sure the top one's covering your liver.”

“Huh?”

“Right here.” Coil patted himself, and then he laughed again. “Oh, I'm such a fool. You can't see what I'm doing from down there.” He turned onto his side, facing her, and then patted the whitened skin just below the central join of his ribcage. “Right here. Make sure that's covered and warm.”

“Um.” 

“Lancer, I'm putting out the light. Get some sleep, all right?”

Furiosa nodded, and making sure she was settled, he blew out the lamp.

The darkness was engulfing and immediate.

The faint scent of kerosene and soot clung to the inside of the cab, a warm, comforting scent, and she closed her eyes.

Furiosa thought she would be too afraid to sleep with Coil right there above her, inches from her, his breathing steady, but then she closed her eyes, meaning to rest for just a little bit and suddenly she was deeply asleep.

 

When she woke the next morning, Coil was gone, and the blanket was tucked around her, doubled up on itself for warmth.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Citadel**

 

Furiosa couldn't stop flexing her hands. It was as though she could still feel the delicate wrists of the two girls beneath her grip. In her mind's eye, Furiosa could still see the livid marks she had left on their tender skin.

The sharp hiss of the brand as it seared into innocent flesh...

Lost in dark thoughts, it took Furiosa a moment to realize someone was waiting for her when she returned from the Immortan's Tower. To her surprise, Coil was waiting just beyond the bridge guards on the War Tower side.

“Um. Lancer. Are you...?” Coil's eyes were full of concern.

“Am I what?” And then to her dismay, Furiosa realized she had been crying.

“Here.” Coil drew her aside and pulled out his shop cloth, dabbing off the tears, careful not to smudge her white. “Must have been the dust. Or maybe the light...going from the hold to the outside, it's bright. Same from the warren onto the bridges.”

“The...the wind. Up on the bridges.”

“Yes, that would do it.” His hand closed gently on her shoulder, but when she tensed, Coil let her go.

“Well.” Coil glanced briefly at the bridge guards, and then gestured for her to follow, walking into the warren. He hesitated for a moment at the door of the Lancer's workshop, before shaking his head and heading deeper in.

“Um?”

“Time to wash, before anything.” Coil said, pointing them toward the wastewater catchment. “But we should talk. You mind if we do both?”

“O-of course not.” Even though she did, her heart sinking, wondering what it was he wanted, afraid, not just of him, but of what he had to say.

 

Furiosa could feel the growing dampness in the air and smell the sweet scent of water. 

The late afternoon light that seeped in green and gold from the bars above warmed the catchment, and Coil stripped down at the water's edge, the stone stained with damp splotches from where the rest of the crew had already washed up.

“Ah, been waiting for this.” Coil began washing himself off, scrubbing off the old white, flaked and cracking. “Mmm. Always feels good to get the dust off after a long run. ”

Glancing at him, Furiosa realized that he had turned away, giving her space as any War Boy would, with the decency of a life lived shoulder-to-shoulder. Hesitantly, she slipped off her bodice and then quickly, she undressed the rest of the way, undoing her belt so that her heavy, tool-laden trousers came off. And then she remembered the top belt, or really, Coil's, the one that he lent her. Unfastening it, she held it in both hands, wondering what to do.

“Driver?”

“Hmm?” Still, he was looking away, and she could see only the long lean form of his back as he knelt beside the catchment, rinsing himself down with doubled handfuls of water.

“The top belt. Do you want it back?”

“Nah, that's yours to keep, Lancer. If you like.” After scrubbing off, he stepped into the water, and sat down with a sigh.

“Thanks.” It was easier to be undressed like this, with his back to her. But she couldn't help look at him; under the white, his skin was ivory pale from lack of sun, but in an oddly appealing way, with the firmness and fineness of youth that she did not expect; wearing the white, it seemed as though he was so much older, so much more experienced.

“Best part about waiting til everyone else is done is that you got it all to yourself.” Coil yawned. “No one splashing about or trying to play games. And then we're free to do as we please until the morning after tomorrow. Favorite part about runs, after all the excitement's over; the holiday afterwards.”

“Mm-hmm.” Furiosa began to wash. “Ow!” 

“Lancer?” Coil turned, curious.

“Ow...” The water stung a long scratch along her arm, and she winced.

And then she realized he was looking at her, and embarrassed, she could not help but blush, even her ears hot, shrinking upon herself as though she could disappear.

“You all right?” Their eyes met briefly.

But then just as quickly, he turned away. Coil took a long, deep breath, shaking his head.

“Y-yes. I'm fine.” Furiosa shivered. He had looked, but he hadn't done more than look away as if disinterested, and that made her almost melt with relief. “I forgot I had a cut until I got water on it. It was just a surprise.”

“Cut? You mean when we were ambushed? No, you weren't on my car then...”

“It happened in the hold. It's nothing; it was stupid,” Furiosa said, embarrassed.

“It can't be that stupid. What happened?”

“I got knocked around and cut myself on the edge of a lantern trying to grab it to put it out.”

“Right. We had to do some fancy driving around some Bandits. That's not stupid, if you kept the lantern from breaking. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Want me to take a look at it?”

“No. It's fine. It's just a scratch.” Furiosa swallowed, washing herself clean. “So what did you want to talk about?" Emulating the older Driver, she got into the water, but far away enough to be out of reach. She sat on the lip of carved stone just beneath the surface, feeling the rough stone steps beneath her feet. It was cool but not cold, and that felt good on her limbs, soothing aches and pains from the long journey back from Bartertown.

Furiosa slid deeper into the water so that it came up to her shoulders but even then, she crossed her arms, covering her chest modestly.

“Your performance.” Coil turned to her, and now that she saw him clearly, it was something of a shock to see him without the white, without the black that rimmed his eyes. There was a fuzz of growing hair like a dark halo around his head and the scruff of beard on his jaw from days on the road. Without all the trappings of a War Boy, Coil seemed like an ordinary man and a handsome one at that, with his clear blue eyes touched with a hint of melancholy.

Certain now that Coil was a young man underneath the white made Furiosa feel a little better; perhaps he wasn't too much older than her.

“Oh?”

“You did great for a first run. Didn't even realize that was your first run ever, much less your first Bartertown run until you mentioned it. You really been only training up until now? You haven't been on the daily patrol? Lancer, why didn't I see you at the last War Games?”

“Um. I was still a Revhead back then.”

“When did you get promoted?” Coil's brow furrowed. “Revhead and Lancer, how many days ago for both.”

Furiosa hesitated, but she realized she couldn't come up with a lie; she had never been a good liar. Besides, whatever she told him, he could easily ask around and find out for certain. So she had no choice but to tell him the truth, and when she did, he blinked.

“Didn't know that was possible.” 

“Isn't it normal?”

“Lancer, I was a Revhead for almost a full fifteen hundred days.” Coil stared. “You're a fast learner, aren't you?”

“I guess?” 

“Since then, how much live training have you done?”

“Maybe four, five times out with the Ace. And the Imperator.”

Coil thought it over. “And now you've done your first Bartertown run.”

Furiosa didn't know what to say, unable to answer him.

“Either you're brilliant or the Ace is. Maybe both,” Coil chuckled. “Here he throws out this suggestion to me, that I ought to try a new Lancer he's been training, and it turns out he's been hiding a turbo-charged V8 as an economy straight-four all this time.

“Question is, Lancer, why's he been keeping you under wraps? You've got the makings of a great Lancer; made a good clean kill on your first try, did everything competently and responsibly on the road. By all rights, you should be free to pick and choose your Driver at will. If you were doing any of the usual things new Lancers do, showing your paces, being seen on board during free practices and daily patrol, you'd have half the Driver pool courting your favor, begging you to ride with them. But it seems like no one knows your quality, but for the Ace and the Imperator.” 

Coil paused to consider his thoughts. “And everyone knows those two are real close. You know, the Ace used to be crew lead until that scandal. He'd still be crew lead too, but for propriety.” Coil caught her eye with a knowing look. “So what's with all the secrecy?”

“I don't know. I didn't know it was a secret.” It took Furiosa a moment to think it through, to connect the dots. Ace taking her out on practice runs, just him and the Imperator Acosta. Ace telling her not to mention the training she had undertaken. Ace keeping her out of the official Lancer initiation until the next round later in the season, making her promise not bring up when she had been promoted to Lancer, how old she was...it started to make sense that he hadn't wanted others to know her capabilities. And all this time she had thought it was some War Boy sense of modesty, to not brag of one's abilities.

“Right. Of course you wouldn't know. Lots of politics going on under the surface, as usual. No matter what you do around here, someone's scheming something, usually to get ahead. Dunno why it's me he picked, but it seems like he's been saving you for a Driver of his choosing, keeping you under wraps. What a sly War Boy that one is! He's playing a long game for sure.”

“Um...”

“Course, I'm saying that with all due respect for the Ace. He's a clever War Boy. Though now that I think of it, probably it ain't for me but for you.” Coil glanced at her with a smile. “He's got a soft spot for you, Lancer. Maybe you can't see it, but he smiles more for you than anyone other than the Imperator himself, and they've known each other since they were just out of their puppy teeth, from what I've heard.”

“Really?” Furiosa couldn't imagine the Ace so young.

“Oh yeah. Acosta won't do anything important without consulting with the Ace first, or so the rumor goes. But we were talking about you.”

Furiosa stared down at the rippling water, and sank into it a little deeper, so that it touched her earlobes, tickling her ears. 

“Might never know why he's picked me of all Drivers. Maybe he thinks we'd make a good team, maybe he thinks I'll do right by you. Whatever the case, Lancer...” Coil sighed, and he pressed his hands to his face briefly. “Gotta be fair and honest to you; it's the least you deserve. So I'm telling you flat out that I can't make a decision yet on who I want riding with me. Wish it could be so simple, to say yes or no, but...well, can't tell you how hard it is being the Driver some days. Every day I think, this little thing, I should ask Win how he'd do it. Or this funny thing happened, he should know. But...he's not around to tell anything anymore.” Coil smiled sadly to himself and studied her, his lips pursed wryly, thoughtfully. “Course, that's my problem and not yours. Will work on making that not your problem, Lancer.” And with that, Coil stood up, and Furiosa had to look away.


	3. Chapter 3

“Don't be foolish; you can't wear that while it's still wet.” Coil paused, looking up from mixing up a one-and-a-half batch of the white for them.

“No?” Dismayed, Furiosa clutched her damp bodice tighter to her chest as if she could dry it by willpower and body heat alone. It was cold and unpleasantly wet against her skin.

“Maybe the worst thing you can do, Lancer, is wear wet clothes. It'll make you too cold, especially over your liver and your entrails.” Coil shook his head. “Just wear the white for now. Besides, look at it. You've busted some holes in it. The shoulder's all torn up from shrapnel. How'd you get away without a scratch when that happened? Must be as lucky as they come.”

“Um.”

“I'll mix up a double batch, and you can just wear the white for now.”

“But...” Furiosa looked away, unable to fully articulate her concerns, not to a War Boy who couldn't understand. 

“It's up to you, Lancer. You ever wear the full white?”

“No.”

“No? You're missing out.”

“I'd rather not.”

“Maybe, but you know you can't wander around like that. Pretty indecent going about the warren without wearing the white. We all know that some War Boys do, but unless there's a good reason, it says some things you probably don't want to say. Bad for your reputation. Least put it on so we can go hang up your shirt somewhere; car's probably still warm if you want to set it on the hood to dry.”

Furiosa gave him a flat look.

“...you just want me to wipe down your car for you, don't you?”

Coil winked. “You are awfully insightful, Lancer.”

 

The white was cold on her skin, but it warmed up quickly, and a heavy coat that stripped her of visible humanity seemed to give her the strange sensation of invulnerability, as though it shielded her from view.

“Here, you've missed a lot of spots.” Coil said softly, and he added a few dabs to her back with his fingertips, running down the ridge of her spine. It left a tingle of sensation dancing up and down her skin, and she wasn't even sure where that strange feeling was coming from.

“And behind the ears...”

“Oh.”

“Seems like the Ace taught you how to put it on, didn't he? He's forever missing behind the ears.” Coil chuckled. “You probably never notice that you've missed it. It's kind of a running joke. It's actually how we tell who he's been at, who he's brought in.”

“Really? People joke about the Ace?”

“Oh sure. Only because he's so respected.” Coil chafed his hands a little, flaking off the extra white. She imitated him, but without his finesse. “How's it feel, wearing full white?” He glanced at her appreciatively.

“Weird...” And she turned, shying away from his eyes.

“Lancer, you're looking good. A War Boy for true. Now just walk like one and no one will give you a second look.” Coil patted her shoulder, and then gave it a swipe where he had smudged the white, smoothing it clean. Oddly, she didn't seem to mind his touch as much with the white on, as though it were a protective layer that stripped her of feeling.

“Thanks. Let's go dry my shirt.” Squaring her shoulders, Furiosa straightened up and headed to the shops with him. She managed to keep her trembling under control, breathing evenly. Sure enough, as they walked by Revhead crews and loitering clumps of Drivers and Lancers, waiting for their turn to help unload the War Rig, no one gave her much notice if any, despite her bare breasts.

Here were the strange contours and outlines of this world and a guide to show her a way, Furiosa thought. Slowly but surely, she was feeling a little less vulnerable, a little less bare.

 

In the end, however, she had put her bodice back on as soon as it dried, shrugging off Coil's offer to fix her shirt. Furiosa couldn't imagine that he would know what to do, and stifled laughter imagining him trying to spot-weld it; after all, what did War Boys know of cloth and the workings of warp and weft? But she kept her thoughts to herself, even after Coil had asked what was so amusing.

Suppertime came around and on her way to the unpaired Lancers' table, Furiosa found herself invited to the big table where the augmented escort that rode the big runs sat. Furiosa thought she recognized the three Moto-Lancers that were on the permanent escort and blinked, surprised to be surrounded with so many high-ranked War Boys.

Mostly she ate and listened to the conversation, but finally curiosity got the better of her.

“I thought we were all supposed to eat with our own um...you know. Our own groups. Lancers with Lancers, Drivers with Drivers,” Furiosa asked, looking to Coil, who was the only one at the table she really knew.

“No one really follows those rules,” a stocky Lancer said.

“Probably more like guidelines than rules,” Coil added. Furiosa closed her mouth, not wanting to point out that it was more likely that anyone who drove or rode had the luxury of being protected by their rank. After all, she had seen more than one Revhead get turned away from a Lancer's table, whereas Drivers and Lancers seemed free to sit where they pleased. “Right Dart?”

The stocky Lancer nodded, gesturing as he spoke. “Ideal: We all sit with our own, teaching each other the trade. Reality: No one wants to talk about work after work and crews just want to gossip to pass the time.”

“Speaking of gossip, any of you get a good look at the Immortan's new girls?” A War Boy asked, and quickly finishing the last few bites of her food, Furiosa excused herself before she could hear more, remembering that she meant to speak with Ace.

But that was a mistake too, because Ace reminded her of what was expected from her.

 

Furiosa had managed it the first time the night before heading out; she could manage it again. But that didn't make her feel any better as she approached the Half-life Noble nest with trepidation.

She was there too early; it was empty. Nervous, she hesitated at the doorway, not certain if she should head back down to the middle warren or go in. She was afraid to be alone in a place like this, not knowing who could come by; after all, this was in the lower part of the upper warren, the reserve of the Imperators.

Hearing footsteps, her heart leapt to her throat.

“Oh, you're already here.” Coil looked surprised. “I didn't think you'd be here so early.”

“Uh. No?”

“That is...didn't expect you to see you again so soon.” Coil looked away, seemingly puzzled, but because of what, she didn't know.

“I...I'm tired?” Furiosa fumbled for words.

“Right. So this is fine. We can pick a good spot first...” Coil hesitated, and Furiosa wondered why; it seemed to her that he was always so self-assured and confident.

“B-boots off, right?” Furiosa suggested.

“Yeah. Good idea, Lancer. Here, let me take yours,” Coil offered, and she pulled off her boots with a sigh, padding into the soft, clean sand of the nest and sinking her toes in. He set her boots next to his on the far wall, glancing at the leather tongue.

“No marker? How do you know it's yours?”

“Marker?”

“Yeah, most of us mark our boots, inside the tongues.” He picked up his boots and she could see a bit of black embroidery on the flap.

“I never had the problem of getting it mixed up,” Furiosa said, and she realized that it was because her boots were bigger than the War Pups' but smaller than most of the men's.

“Hmm. Well, that's a lucky thing then. It's a hard time when you get your boots mixed up. Did I ever tell you, once when I was a Revhead, some clumsy, trash-for-brains fool stumbled through a bunch of boots somehow in the middle of the night and got everyone's boots mixed up? Spent all day wearing two mismatched boots til I could find the right Revheads to swap with. Right was too small and left was too big.”

“Really?” Furiosa found herself stifling laughing. “What fool was that?”

Coil gave her a knowing look. “You really can't guess?”

“No. I don't know your cohort.”

Coil laughed. “Just like you to ask the practical questions, Lancer. Let's just say...well, you're looking at the fool.” 

“Coil!” Scandalized, Furiosa laughed and when Coil shrugged helplessly, exaggerating the gesture, it made her laugh even more.

 

“Where is everybody else?” Furiosa wrapped her arms around herself.

“Dunno.” Coil dug himself into the sand, his back to hers, close enough to brush against her lightly when he shifted, and she was glad for her bodice, a protective shell. “Maybe still talking at the table. I'm too tired to listen.”

Furiosa smiled to herself, imagining him as a young Revhead, blundering through neat rows of boots and mixing them up. Somehow it seemed easier to do this than she had anticipated.

“I realized that I never said thank you,” Furiosa said softly.

“For what?” Coil yawned.

“For taking me on my first run, and for training me. And the top belt. That's going to be useful. My only regret is that I didn't get to ride with you coming back.”

“Nothing to thank me for, Lancer. It's what I'm supposed to be doing anyway. Trying to pick a new mate.”

“Is it hard?”

“Yes, but not for the reasons you'd think.” 

“Driver, I hope you find someone that suits you.”

Coil was silent for so long that she thought he was asleep. Just as she started drowsing off, Furiosa thought she heard his voice, no more than a sigh.

“I hope so too.”


	4. Chapter 4

After the brief post-run holiday, life went back to normal. Furiosa continued her work in the shops, in the sort of limbo she had maintained since being promoted, something of a quasi-Revhead, quasi-Lancer, keeping her head down as life went on all around her. These days she rebuilt a lot of things like motorcycle engines or smaller, repairing tools such as drills, sanders, or fans, and all sorts of other motor-driven components. Furiosa spent many hours by herself in the Lancer's workshop, surrounded by trays covered in neatly outlined arrays of tiny screws and parts, cleaning and refurbishing under the combined light of the airshaft and the lamps as other Lancers went about their business around her.

Though she was starting to recognize some of the members of both the permanent and augmented escort, who she saw around the shops, Furiosa endeavored to stay out of their way, certain that they had forgotten about her existence. Especially Coil, who she actively avoided, thinking that he must have forgotten her, so she would endeavor to forget him.

 

Furiosa sat at her usual table, one that fluctuated with overflow Revheads and new, unpaired Lancers that went through cycles of being mostly empty for stretches and then sometimes suddenly full on others. Much of the time, she ate by herself, but today, to her surprise, another Lancer joined her barely a breath after she sat down.

“Oi, Furiosa.” The stocky Lancer grinned. “Remember me? Dart.”

“H-hey. Dart.” Unprepared to speak, Furiosa stammered and stared down at her food, picking up the spoon, hoping that the unspoken rule of not speaking while eating would apply.

“Mind if I sit with?”

“Nah.” Though Furiosa could feel her heart pounding, she congratulated herself for replying in that easy War Boy banter.

“Good.” Dart seemed unusually chipper, and it made her wonder why he came to sit with her. Did he want to ask her something? Was it just a social visit? Furiosa puzzled over the question.

 

Halfway through the mush, Furiosa started realizing that the people who joined after Dart sat down at the table were all from the escort, including the two lead Drivers from the permanent escort that drove the regular Gastown and Bulletfarm runs and their respective crewmates. The War Boys chatted cheerfully as they ate, with the easy camaraderie of long-standing crews, unlike the relative silence of the unpaired Lancers whose closest friends were often still Revheads.

Suddenly Dart stood up, pushing his empty bowl aside and Furiosa thought this would be it; he'd leave and then with him the rest of the War Boys. But Dart paused after he stood up to greet someone passing by; Furiosa paid them no mind and focused on eating. Perhaps if she ate faster, this would be over and done with sooner.

“Good luck there, mate,” Dart said.

“Thanks for saving my place.” 

And then Furiosa startled, recognizing Coil's voice just as he sat down beside her.

“No worries, Lancer. It's just me.” Coil sat down, taking the place that Dart had vacated, setting his empty bowl down before him.

“Hmm?” Furiosa made a questioning sound around a mouthful of mush. It couldn't be that he was here to eat if his bowl was already empty...

Coil chuckled. “Finish your bite, Lancer, and then we'll talk.”

Chewing briskly through a mouthful of greens, Furiosa swallowed and took a sip from her canteen. “Driver? Is there something...” And Furiosa blinked, suddenly realizing that all eyes were on them, watching expectantly. Even Dart hadn't left; he was standing behind Coil, watching her intently for her reaction.

Furiosa shrank down in her seat faintly, but then she took a deep breath, straightening up and squaring her shoulders.

Coil smiled, charmed. He offered Furiosa his hand, and hesitantly, she clasped it, imitating what she had seen other War Boys do around the Citadel.

Oddly, Coil then closed both hands gently around Furiosa's, and she wondered what that meant.

His hands were warm, but she could feel a little jitter of nervousness within the fingers, a hint of anxiety.

“Lancer.” Coil's hands gripped her firmly, giving her a squeeze, and something about that made her look up from his fingers to meet his clear blue eyes. “Furiosa, that is. Furiosa, would you care to... That is, would you join my crew? I'd be honored if you chose to ride with me.”

There was a moment when she realized that the entire mess hall had died down into silence, waiting for her answer, and then Furiosa found herself agreeing before she meant to do it, because just for a second it seemed like the most reasonable thing to do.

The table erupted into cheering and congratulations. Dart leapt onto the end of the table with a wild whoop and began a chant of the V8. Overwhelmed, Furiosa let Coil put his arms around her, and she hugged him back awkwardly, her chin pressed against his shoulder.

Coil drew her up out of the seat so they could embrace more properly. Even as Furiosa's heart hammered against the inside of her ribs, she could feel his hand patting her back soothingly, as though he knew how she felt and was apologizing.

*****

“Ace. Can I? Um. Talk. That is, with you?” Flustered and anxious from waiting, Furiosa scowled as all the words she meant to say tumbled out in a meaningless jumble.

“Sure.” The Ace paused as he stepped out of the training shop, glancing back to make certain that a pair of War Pups were straightening the car pedals.

“Trouble?” Furiosa wondered; the boys only did that as a minor punishment; usually the Ace left the pedals as they were, liking a particular arrangement that had the appearance of clutter but followed a certain logic.

“Just some foolishness,” the Ace shrugged it off. “Not paying attention, falling off...sometimes the best pups are the ones that make the worst mistakes.”

“Oh.” Furiosa could feel it all the way down in the pit of her stomach, the sense of anxiety that she had disappointed him, certain that his words were directed at her and her decision to agree to ride with Coil.

“What's on your mind?” the Ace asked. “Heard round the shops that you're working components these days.”

“It's easy work,” Furiosa waved it off, though she felt a twinge of guilt at all that she had left unfinished; she had left the workshop early to catch the Ace.

“So you need help with that or you got something else on your mind?”

“It's something I'd rather...” Furiosa glanced around; as the shops began closing down for the day, War Boys were filtering into the winding hallways of the lower warren, gossiping and joking.

Understanding, the Ace gestured for her to follow.

 

High above the central shop, they climbed the long ladder together to the maintenance walk, above the great gears that ran the lifts.

Furiosa hoisted herself up onto the welded narrow metal walkway, her hands gripping the rails with a firm but light grip, as though she were on the car. Carefully, she made her way along the walkway, keeping balance in mind. “I didn't know about this place.”

“Piece of work getting it up in the first place,” the Ace chuffed, amused. “Wouldn't have wanted to be up here doing the welding. We're over 70 hands off the shop floor here.”

“Ace? Do you really remember seeing this go up?” 

“Yeah. Long time ago.” The Ace walked past, down to the end of the the narrow walk and sat down, his legs hanging over the edge. He gestured Furiosa over; she sat beside him, closer than she had ever been to him other than in training.

“So...” Furiosa sighed, unsure of how to proceed. She wrapped her arms around herself, hugging herself tight, not wanting to accidentally brush against the Ace. 

“You wanna know about the Driver, don't you? Coil.”

“How did you know?”

“Saw the whole thing at supper the other night.” The Ace's pale eyes studied her face. “You're scared. You think you made a bad decision.”

Furiosa looked away, wondering how he knew just from looking.

“There're a couple ways crews are made, Furiosa. You probably heard about 'em in one shape or another. Sometimes crewmates just find each other. Sometimes Lancers do their best to catch a Driver's eye. Sometimes Drivers got their pick; best Drivers with the best cars usually never have to do more 'n ask and they got their pick of the unpaired Lancers. But sometimes someone like me steps in.”

“A trainer?”

“No, a Half-life Noble,” the Ace said simply, not making much of his rank. “Sometimes it's necessary. Coil's been without a Lancer for almost a hundred days now. Another ten more, the Imperator would have asked him to step aside for someone else who was serious about driving.”

Furiosa's breath caught. “I thought...that it was the best thing a person could do is be a Driver.”

“Yeah, most War Boys would do anything to drive, especially on a fast car like the FDK. And so far Coil's got the makings of a talented Driver. Good balance of brain and feet.” The Ace mimed the press of the brake and throttle. 

“Then why didn't he just pick a Lancer? I don't understand. Shouldn't he have his choice? Wouldn't a Lancer want to ride with him?” 

The Ace sighed. “Furiosa. You know how a Lancer gets promoted to Driver?”

“Isn't it the Imperator's decision? And the Half-life Nobles deciding together?”

“Sometimes. But mostly he inherits the seat.” He met her eyes, to make sure she understood, but when she gave him a blank look, he continued: “Coil's Driver was killed. War Boy by name of Win.” The Ace folded his hands together. “Almost a hundred days ago now, will be a full hundred soon. Shot on a patrol run by a road warrior.”

Furiosa remembered the name. Her brow furrowed, considering the implications. “Where was Coil then? I thought you were supposed to shield the Driver if you're the Lancer.”

“Coil wasn't riding, if that's what you're asking. Win was asked to fill in; sometimes they go short on the patrol if someone's poorly or a car's busted. Dunno why, but Win, he goes off with one of the patrol Lancers and ends up dead. Turn of the wheel,” the Ace said, a frown tightening his lips in a thin line. “Waste of a good Driver.”

“But even if it wasn't Coil, isn't the Lancer supposed to take a bullet? I thought we were always supposed to shield the Driver.”

“Yeah, when you can. But whatever happened...” the Ace shrugged. “None of us were there to see it. You know, Coil tried turning down the drive at first.”

“...really?”

“Really. He had a long talk with Imperator Acosta, and after that he took up the wheel. No one but Acosta knows why, but I think it might be...it could be that-- How do I put it politely? Let's just say Coil's put on a lot of mourning since Win was Witnessed.”

“Sorry, I don't know what that means, Ace.”

The Ace pointed down the inside of his forearms. “You put on scars.” 

Furiosa was taken aback; she had always thought those were from shrapnel, but up close, some of them looked like carefully branded wounds.

“Scars to remember those we lost,” the Ace explained patiently. “Like here, this one is for...ah, never mind. You wouldn't know 'er. This is from a long time ago. But they're to remember the dead.”

“Oh. Then what's the problem? Is there something wrong about doing that?” Furiosa wondered out loud; it seemed to her that scars were a sign of status, of accomplishments, and War Boys wore them with pride. Often new scars were covered with only the barest, most minimal amount of white so that the pink of the healing wounds would shine through.

“It's not wrong so much as...” the Ace paused, trying to explain. “It's just strange the way Coil did it, that's all. Mourned a lot for his crewmate, far more than decent.” He shook his head, puzzled. “Win's been Witnessed; what else can be done? You move on, you keep going. That's the proper thing to do. It's what the Witnessed would want you to be doing.”

“They must have been very close.”

“Eh, wouldn't know much about that. Just know that since Coil started driving, he hasn't even offered another Lancer a chance at a provisional ride. Acosta's set him up with the last couple, though I don't think either side was interested in the other. Lancers get touchy about a Driver they think isn't giving them their due. You've seen 'em yourself; they're a proud bunch. Seems to me Acosta would have sent Coil back to the Lancer pool sooner rather than later, but it was worth another shot on that last long run.”

“You mean me?”

“Yeah. He hasn't taken a Lancer for more than a single run. Not until now at least. One run and he's already asked you to ride with him.”

“Oh.” 

The Ace smiled gently, a rare sight, and Furiosa remembered Coil's words. “It's a mark of your quality, Furiosa. You'll be fine. It's just a brief bad spell for him; Coil's got a good head on his shoulders and a name for being reliable. The sooner he forms a proper crew, the sooner he'll forget about his losses and the sooner he can get on with driving. He's been a Lancer and a good one, so he'll be a good Driver for you. You'll do fine with him.”

Furiosa sighed, staring down at the milling shop below; from up here, everyone looked tiny, like miniature figurines painted white. “I don't know if I can.”

Misunderstanding her, the Ace patted her shoulder lightly. “You did a good job on the road and you'll only get better from now on, especially with a good position high up on the line. You just remember what you been training at. Besides, it's a good way to keep you safe, Furiosa. Can't keep my eyes on all the time. You'll have a good Driver who'll have your back, a strong, dependable War Boy. And he's got plenty of friends and allies round the War Tower. Gives you a few extra sets of eyes on for free.” The Ace clasped her shoulder, giving her a friendly squeeze. “You got anything else you wanna ask about?”

At that, Furiosa realized that Coil had been right; there was no doubt that the Ace had been plotting this since her promotion less than thirty days ago. Already, he must have had Coil in mind when she was promoted. Furiosa knew that there were a multitude of things she wanted to ask him, wanted to tell him, but all she could find herself doing was shaking her head.

“No. I'm...I'll be fine. Thanks.”

The Ace let her go, getting up on his feet. “Gotta see to the pups before supper. Hardest part is roundin 'em up, see how they're doing. Like chasing down a pile of lizards one at a time. You got anything else you wanna know, just come to me, all right?”

“Sure, Ace.” Furiosa smiled up at him, trying to show him that she appreciated his advice.

His footsteps trembled the iron walkway and she sighed, staring down at the shops below from her high, solitary perch. The daily patrol was coming in now, and there was a buzz of activity as the great wheels began to turn, bringing up the lifts.


	5. Chapter 5

Furiosa held up her side of their wheel tightly, trembling as she stood before the chromed expanse of the Wheel Shrine, bright moonlight flooding in from the air shaft above. Imperator Acosta was saying something, important words in an important cadance, but it was as though he were speaking a foreign language; she could not comprehend the meaning, trapped in the tumult of her own thoughts.

Even though it was far too late to back out now, Furiosa couldn't help but feel unsure about her choices, uncertain that this partnership was the right thing to do. 

Since her talk with the Ace, life had turned into a whirlwind of preparation. The most important work was designing and building their own wheel on a blank and retiring Coil's old wheel, which went to hang on one of the upper tiers of the Wheel Shrine out of reach, never to be used again.

Besides that, there were all sorts of little formalities that had to be done, most of which Coil managed as she didn't have the kinds of friends or alliances he had. But there was plenty of work for her too, which she was glad for.

There was certainly something good in the distraction of working hard to prepare in her spare time; it meant she didn't have to think. But then day had crept up on her unexpectedly, and here she was, in a new coat of white, her hand grasping the wheel between them with a hard, white-knuckled grip.

The War Rig Imperator smudged them both on the forehead with soot.

At the sign from the Imperator, Coil clasped her free hand with his and leaned down. Tilting his head, he kissed Furiosa politely on the lips, sealing the deal, a promise to form a partnership.

It was the lightest brush of skin against skin, impersonal and unfeeling, but it sent a strange sensation through her, a feeling that ran down Furiosa's skin even to the soles of her feet.

There, it was done, and Coil drew back. Relieved, it seemed to her that everything was fine up until she remembered what the rest of the ceremony for sealing new crews entailed.

 

Coil's friends escorted them to his car; it had been decked out merrily with borrowed lanterns, filled only partway with fuel so that they would burn out naturally over the course of the evening. Every bit of chrome on the vehicle had been polished carefully; the car gleamed in the lamplit darkness of the shop. On the dusty windows, little messages and drawings had been left for them, some wishing luck, others of a more erotic bent.

Furiosa tried to not look at the drawings.

Ribald jokes were flying and Coil took it with good humor, answering as he saw fit, keeping the evening light and merry. Some of the things that they were saying made Furiosa blush under her white but she managed to stay composed, to appear cheerful and calm, even though deep down she wondered if it was not too late to back out.

Once he opened the door, Coil set the wheel, clicking it into position. He paused briefly as the others watched expectantly.

“Guess this is it, mates.” Coil sat down on the already fully reclined seat. “Time to break in this new crew.” With a wink to the others, he tugged Furiosa down on top of him, so that she yelped, despite knowing it was coming.

In the commotion of cheering and whistling, she ended up crushed awkwardly against him with her ear against his chest. The fast pace of Coil's heart suggested that something was wrong, that perhaps all this good humor was a cover for something else, and she wondered what he had to be nervous about. 

Or perhaps it was the excitement of anticipation for something else, and Furiosa bit back a sob, once she realized that.

“Save all that for later, Lancer! Driver, maybe you oughta turn on the engine and give it a few revs so that it covers up the noise; some of us need to get some sleep tonight.”

“Make sure to try both the intake and the exhaust!”

“If you hear squeaking, probably the suspension needs work. Or your Lancer needs some more lubrication.”

“Can manage all that with no problems. After all, it ain't my first time behind the wheel. And it's not going to be the suspension; just had it re-tuned,” Coil said rakishly. “All right! Good night, War Boys! We'll see you in the morning.” And with that, he shut the door.

Coil still had her pulled tight against him, his strong arm around her waist. Furiosa couldn't stop shaking. Cautiously, she glanced up at him, but his expression betrayed nothing of value to her.

The sound of laughter amid speculation and gossip died down quickly as the War Boys left the shop chattering.

Furiosa didn't realize how tense Coil was until he let her go with a sigh, once the last of the conversation disappeared down the hall outside the shop.

“Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you, Lancer.” He let her go. Wiggling out from beneath her, Coil moved down to the floor.

“It's okay.” But Furiosa was still shaking, badly, and it took long deep breaths to make it better. She wondered: why was he letting her have his seat?

“Absolutely understand if you want to leave. If the Ace asks, just tell him...” Coil shrugged. “Tell him whatever you like.”

Immediately, Furiosa's hand went to the door, opening it with a click. As she stepped out, she happened to glance back.

Head leaning against the inside of the window, Coil's breath steamed along the glass.

He drew away briefly, jaw clenched tight, his eyes flat and expressionless as he stared at the splotch of steam. Carefully, he traced something with the tip of his right index finger, three letters that Furiosa couldn't clearly see, though she knew what they spelled out.

Coil glanced absently toward her. Realizing she hadn't left, his hand quickly covered the letters and wiped the glass clean.

His mouth moved into a smile that did not reach his eyes. “Thank the Ace for me, will you? Tell him that it'll always be appreciated that he thought of me when he trained a great Lancer.”

Furiosa hesitated, remembering what the Ace had said about Coil's loss, and then sat back down on the seat, shutting the door.

“No. I'll stay. They're...they're expecting it, aren't they? If I leave, it'll cause you problems. I don't want anyone to think badly of you. And it would be bad for your reputation if I left now.”

“Thank you. That's very considerate. Lucky turn of the wheel to have a good Lancer like you.” Coil laid down in the narrow space beside the Driver's seat, his back to her and his head pillowed against his arm.

 

One by one, the lanterns were dying, sputtering into darkness as fuel ran out. Coil hadn't moved, but Furiosa knew he wasn't asleep.

Coil suddenly sat up. “Ah, that's enough of that.” He moved forward, toward her, and Furiosa shrank away.

“Feet up, Lancer,” he said, and Furiosa drew her boots up, drawing her knees up protectively, wondering what he wanted, but Coil was only digging around underneath his Driver's seat, where he kept his things.

“Almost forgot we're supposed to do this.” Coil managed a hint of a smile, looking up at her from past her boots. “Got something for you, Lancer. Would be bad if I didn't give you something, some kind of token. Been thinking you need a new dust wrap; that rag you've been using barely covers your mouth.” He drew out a long black dustwrap, identical to his own, and handed it to her.

Their fingertips brushed briefly, a little shock of touch.

Furiosa's eyes widened; it was a fortune in cloth, and she wondered how many food bars it must have taken him to trade for it.

“Look closely, Lancer. Did the work myself.” Black on black, along the inner loop was her name, embroidered in little square letters, repeating over and over.

“Coil. Thank you...” Breathless, Furiosa didn't know what else to say; it was shocking that Coil had done this for her.

There were tiny stars along the outer edge in all different shapes, and she could feel them underneath her fingers, even though they were hard to see.

Looking more closely at his dustwrap, she could see the hints of all sorts of embroidered designs, hidden among the folds, and she wondered how she had never noticed it before.

“I don't have anything for you.” Furiosa mumbled, embarrassed.

“It's fine. Don't need anything. No, wait. Got an idea. Give me your old dustwrap.” Coil gestured, and she slipped it off from around her neck, smudging her own white as she did so.

Coil reached down under the seat again and drew out a round, flat tin. Once it had been painted, but most of the design had worn off, leaving only remnant bits of white and blue here and there. Furiosa's breath caught; she remembered something similar from her childhood, carefully kept tins with pictures of the world Before. 

Opening it, Coil pulled out a pair of sharp scissors and began cutting up the rag. Furiosa's eyes widened; the tin was full of sewing implements. It was the same as she remembered from home, though there were more bits of scrap leather and small, half-finished projects like a folded black kerchief stretched on a metal embroidery frame with a silver needle pinned neatly to it. There was even a worn and well-polished thimble tumbled amongst the clutter of tools.

“This is beautiful. Sorry, Driver...I wish I had something better for you.”

“No, don't be. Didn't expect anything from you, Lancer. You're young and haven't been at the War Boy game long; not like you'd have the means or know who to ask. Besides, it's fine; wasn't expecting anything in return. Will do this, and then it looks like we've exchanged gifts proper.”

“What are you doing?”

“Have a little patience, Lancer.” Coil winked up at her, and set to work. With the strips of her old graying dustwrap, he wove them together in a braid, and for a moment she was overcome with a strange lightheadedness, remembering the past, watching the weavers work from the safety of her mother's arms.

Once Coil finished, he threaded a needle, working quickly in the light of the single lantern still burning on the hood. He wrapped the thin, woven bracelet around his right wrist and started the needle's passage in the cloth, but then shook his head. 

“Here, hold thi- Wait. Know how to sew?”

“Yes, but not very well. I'm out of practice.”

“That's fine. Here, I'm trusting you.” Tucking in loose strips and pinching the ends of the bracelet together, Coil raised his arm for Furiosa, the silver needle gleaming in the golden light of the lantern.

“Wouldn't you want to take it off?”

“It'll come off eventually with enough wear. But right now it has to be tight so it doesn't catch on anything and be the death of me.”

“Right.” Furiosa took the needle and thread from him, sewing the bracelet shut with her wobbly, uneven stitches. And in her ear, she could hear them laughing from the depths of the past: _you know someone is a true Vuvalina when she starts stitches like a child instead of a mother_.

“Good. Now run it through again, going in reverse. Need to make sure it's strong for the road.”

“Okay.” This time her stitches were more secure, more assured, and some of them were almost neat and even.

“Thanks.” Coil took the needle from her and put it away carefully. Tying off deftly, he snapped the thread, stowing everything back into the sewing tin. He raised his wrist to show her the bracelet, and she touched it lightly, running her fingertips over the woven cloth.

“It looks good. You're good at making things.”

“Thank you. Been at it a long time.” Coil put the tin back where it belonged, and laid back down. “Try to get some sleep, Lancer.”

“Sure.” She laid down on the leather-bound seat, feeling the neat stitches under her hand and wondering if he had repaired the leather himself.

 

The last, longest-burning lantern sputtered out, leaving them in total darkness. 

Furiosa fingered the new dustwrap around her neck, feeling the row of little stars beneath her fingertips. Doubled up around her neck, it was soothingly warm.

“Still awake?” Coil whispered.

“Yeah.”

“Can't sleep either.” Coil sighed, and Furiosa could hear him, feel him shifting around restlessly. “You usually sleep with the War Pups don't you, Lancer?”

“Yeah. Ace said I ought not to anymore. Especially after tonight.”

“He's probably right.”

“How did you know?”

“Um.” Coil paused. “Was looking for you in the nests, asking around. But no one's ever seen you in one, so...”

“Oh. I didn't know.”

“Now you'll have to join my nest. Don't worry; I'm in a good one. Almost no War Boys who snore or kick.”

“Uh.”

“It'll be fine. You'll like it, I promise, even though we don't have blankets like the pups do. Besides, you're not going to be welcome in the pups' nest anymore, now that you've got a permanent ride.”

“Y-you're right.” And it was another thing Furiosa hadn't thought of, what would change when she accepted the position. Anxiety gnawed at her belly, leaving her cold, and she wondered how she would manage in a nest with men that she didn't know, until she realized she had a Driver who by the terms of their partnership had to have her back, just as she had to have his.

Coil made an amused sound. “That reminds me... Tell me, Lancer. How old are you?”

“About five thousand, five hundred days. I used to know exactly, but I lost track by some days.”

“That makes you about twenty-two hundred days younger than me. Wait, how would you know the exact count?” Coil sounded puzzled. “You couldn't have been counting from the first.”

“My mother kept it for me.”

“Your...mother?”

“Yes.” Furiosa shivered, hugging herself, remembering her last glimpse of her mother's bloodied, battered face. “She kept count until...”

“Until?”

“Until she died.”

“I hope you were able to Witness it.”

“Yes.” Furiosa choked on her words, the words she couldn't say, not to him, not to anyone, not even herself.

“Good. That's what the dead need to move on to Valhalla. Someone Witnessing,” Coil sighed.

“What...what happens when they're not?”

“Dunno. No one knows for sure. Some people say they just disappear, like they never existed. And other people...say they hang around their crew, hoping to be Witnessed, to be remembered, even though it's not something that can be done for them twice. Still others...well, I don't know who to believe.”

“Oh.”

“So you're lucky. She's in a good place now because you were dependable. Because you were there when she needed it.”

“Lucky...” And Furiosa felt nothing but a deep, hollow ache; within the wasteland of her soul whatever tears she had for her mother had long since dried up. “Driver, do you have a mother? A father?”

“Probably, somewhere, if they're still alive,” Coil replied. “Citadel-bred, so my father's an Imperator, cuz otherwise I'd be the Immortan's son and living the high life. Could you imagine that? Rictus Erectus' little brother. I'd probably have my own Imperators. Ha! No, I'm nothing special, fathered by no one important. Now, mother, I don't know either... a milker? I don't recall ever having parents. To be honest, I don't remember anything before being a War Pup. All my memories start in the War Tower. Probably left the Immortan's Tower by the time I was a thousand days.”

“Oh.”

“When I was little, I used to run a lot of messages over. So I know what it's like up there. I thought about looking for them before, but how's a pup supposed to ask? Can't exactly go up to the milkers one by one, asking politely. You're not supposed to talk to them, and they're not supposed to talk to you. And you definitely shouldn't be talking to the Imperators unless it's something important.”

“I didn't know.”

“Lancer, there's not much to know. I doubt that I missed very much. Talking to some of the War Boys who came from outside, like Bartertown or beyond, seems like I got it good, not having a mother or a father. Most of them are all messed up from having parents. Me, I was raised by the War Tower and I turned out fine.”

“Wait. Does that mean you remember Ace when he was younger?”

“Oh sure. The Ace was always good to us little ones. I always wanted to be as strong as him when I grew up. But when I got older I realized that wasn't going to be possible. He doesn't really talk about it, but he spent most of his life breaking rock to build the warrens. I haven't done nearly as much hard work, so...” Coil paused. “Oh right. Your age. That's what we were talking about. Lancer, I didn't realize you were so young.”

“Sorry.” Furiosa hugged herself tight.

“No, it's fine. I was just curious, that's all. Thought you had maybe another five, six hundred days more, at least.”

“No.”

“You're young for a Lancer. Most don't start until they're an entire five hundred days older than you.”

“That's what the Ace said too, but he said not to mention it unless someone asked me straight out. So far no one has, except you.”

“Clever.” Coil laughed. “If I had known, maybe I wouldn't have asked you to ride. But then...it doesn't seem fair to toss you to the wolves in the daily patrol. I'm glad I grabbed you before someone else could lay claim.”

Embarrassed, Furiosa felt herself blush, glad for the darkness. “Huh?”

“Lancer. You're really capable. Just what I was looking for in a Lancer. Someone who's hardworking and competent, someone who's responsible and reliable. Someone who's all business. That's all. I don't want more.”

“So tonight...earlier. What everyone was talking about...”

“No. Trust me, no. I've no interest in that, not from you. We're not even really friends yet, Lancer. I wouldn't ask it. Not when you obviously don't want it. And the rest is just nonsense to please the boys.”

“They think we're...”

“Let them think what they want to think. Lancer, you want to hear a secret?”

“Sure.”

“In truth, most Drivers and Lancers are just workmates. Some people talk about it like it's going to be some grand thing with best mates and...” Coil paused, his breath catching. “...and for most people, that's just not true. Most people never have that kind of mate. But that's all right; we can be friends and workmates without any of the rest. Promise.”

“Okay.” Furiosa couldn't help the note of skepticism in her voice.

“Ah, Lancer. I don't know what I could say to convince...no wait. Here, take my hand.”

“Hmm?” Furiosa turned over onto her side. Fumbling in the darkness, Furiosa found Coil's hand and clasped it. Coil closed both hands over hers. His grip was firm but gentle, and his thumb ran lightly over the inside of her wrist, sending a shiver down her spine that went all the way to her toes.

“I can't see you to do it properly, but...” Coil drew her hand down and pressed a kiss to the knuckles of her hand.

“What's that for?”

“My promise to you. Sealing the deal that I'll never ask for more from you.” Coil let her go.

“Thank you.” Quickly pulling her hand back, Furiosa scrubbed her knuckles against her trousers and then cradled her hand close, as though it were injured.

“Try to get some sleep, Lancer. We've got testing to do tomorrow.” Sighing, he shifted, trying to get comfortable.

“Sure.” Furiosa closed her eyes, but a strange feeling overcame her when she thought of his lips on her hand.

 

A little rap on the window woke her and she looked up to see where the sound was coming from. It was the Ace peering in, a look of relief on his face. The Ace seemed drawn, exhausted, and Furiosa wondered why; the Ace didn't look like he had gotten any sleep last night.

“Furiosa...” The Ace spoke just loud enough to be heard through the glass. Then he paused, glancing up. Whatever it was he was going to say, it seemed that he suddenly changed his mind. He briefly met her eyes with a knowing look. “War Boys are coming.” Quickly, the Ace left, heading out the vehicle entrance of the shop.

Furiosa nodded. Remembering what was expected, she took a moment to steel her nerves and then decisively rolled off the reclined seat onto Coil, waking him with a start.

“Lancer!” Coil gasped, but then hearing footsteps, he wrapped his arms around her waist and closed his eyes, careful to place his hands only where she was covered by her bodice.

“The Ace,” Furiosa whispered, and closed her eyes, resting her head against his shoulder, feigning sleep. “He came to warn me.”

“We'll have to thank him later,” Coil added, and then he pretended to be startled awake as the War Boys began to rock the car back and forth, cheering and hollering.


	6. End Notes

Tenera from the Latin, meaning tender, young, youthful, sensitive...

Something of a side story to the main series. Originally written just for myself (i.e. self-indulgent amusement), but my prereaders suggested posting it, so here it is.

**Thanks**

Thanks to Geoduck and Tfuriosa for help prereading. Without them, I probably wouldn't have posted this since it was mostly for my own amusement. Also thanks to loirgris for the useful question that led to the addition of the scene with the Ace.

Special thanks to those who have been following my story series. I really appreciate your support and kind words. Thank you so much for reading! 

11/13/15: Currently back to writing _Ecstasia_. Or I will be once I have some time.

 **End Notes** :

Like the rest of the series, as War Boys exist as a collective unit, there is very little use of the personal pronoun 'I' to begin sentences. When someone begins a statement using 'I', it suggests there is something of an intimacy between the two speakers, that they feel they can speak about themselves personally and individually. I used this convention to try to show distance or closeness between speakers. In Furiosa's case, she just doesn't know any better, being a relative stranger in their world and speaks as natural to her. Coil, however, often speaks in a clipped War Boy style to show impersonality and distance but switches to a more natural style when he feels closer and more comfortable. The Ace however, almost always speaks in clipped War Boy style.

The car here is the FDK, but built to a different configuration. It hasn't been cut apart yet to be a mounted flamethrower platform, but is still more like a Volkswagon Beetle with a stripped interior and no seats other than the driver's seat. It does not have external tanks in this configuration. In terms of setup, it's a bit more like the Nux car without the little seat on the passenger side.

The girls that Furiosa escorted over to the Immortan's Tower are Angharad and Capable. They were brought from Bartertown to the Citadel as part of a trade run at the end of _Furiosa_.

This scene near the bridge is sort of parallel to a scene with Nux and Slit early in _Vulnera_.

Coil looks away from Furiosa because he finds her attractive.

I have a feeling that the Ace kept Furiosa from going to the last War Games, but I'm not fully sure. The War Games are described in further detail in _Euphoria_ chapter 4.

Furiosa has been in War Boy society for just over a year. However unlike most of the others she already had some skills, like mechanical skills, and needed less training, besides being older. Of course she also had a lot of motivation to work hard to be promoted, on top of natural ability.

If I ever get around to it, I have an idea for a story with Imperator Acosta and the Ace as young men.

The scandal is mentioned here and there in the series, but the gist of it is that some time before Furiosa joined, the Ace put a War Boy under the wheels for crippling some War Pups. This is why the Ace ended up as the trainer.

Furiosa was discreetly promoted to protect her from both the Prime Imperator and the War Boys alike. In _Furiosa_ the Prime Imperator sexually assaults Furiosa after she was kicked out of the Vault (no longer one of the wives due to infertility). Additionally, the Ace wasn't sure if she could handle the scrutiny that new Lancers often face, wanting to protect her from the open courtship of Drivers who are looking for a Lancer (for example, the Ace wants to keep her away situations like the crews that are made up of a single Driver and up to five Lancers, as well as keeping her out of the daily patrol). The Ace choose Coil because besides personality, at this point Coil is the highest-ranked Driver without a Lancer. This would give Furiosa the benefit of an already established network of alliances.

In _Vulnera_ , the general gist of suppertime is described, where War Boys line up by rank and the higher ranked ones are fed more than the lower ranked ones and War Pups. They also tend to cluster by rank, but Furiosa is right; higher-ranked War Boys are definitely free to sit wherever they please, whereas lower-ranked ones are consigned to particular tables.

The core escort is on what might be considered the permanent War Rig crew; that is, two cars and their crew (one lead, one rear) and three Moto-Lancers (a title that interchangeably describes either the rider or the driver of the motorcycle). These are for the safe little runs around the neighborhood of the Citadel, like to Gastown or the Bulletfarm.

The augmented escort is the dozen or so vehicles on top of the core escort that drive the long, dangerous runs to Bartertown. 

The daily patrol is made up mostly of new Drivers and Lancers who haven't formed crews yet, and ride in small groups of one support truck, two cars, and one or two motorcycles. For example, in Fury Road, Max is run down by two daily patrol units working in tandem. They're not as skilled as the crews riding the augmented escort, and generally have a name for inexperience and wildness.

Furiosa is afraid of running into the Prime Imperator alone.

Coil is puzzled because he slipped into using the intimate 'I' with Furiosa. Before, he only used that to apologize, in the different usage of 'I' where it means to take personal responsibility.

Gossip spreads fast among the augmented escort as most of them are friends and colleagues. But Furiosa has no idea because she doesn't really talk to anyone. Here the augmented escort comes to show Coil their support; he's well-liked but his behavior after Win's death has been somewhat erratic. Most people want him to settle down and stop being so dramatic.

Coil doesn't mean to pressure Furiosa; this is just the normal way Lancers are asked. I think in part this is to show that the Driver has called dibs, and that the Lancer agrees to the deal. Sometimes it's done in private first, and then in public later to make it official. I somehow feel that Coil does it this way so that he can't back out either, as an agreement is like a binding contract.

The two War Pups are Nux and Slit. The Ace is talking about Nux when he says 'sometimes the best pups are the ones that make the worst mistakes'. This is in reference to a scene in _Vulnera_ where Nux falls of the training car and gets berated.

The Ace folds his hands together into the V8.

Often putting on mourning means copying a scar that the deceased had picked up in life. In _Ecstasia_ , I'll be writing about why so many of the War Boys have those scars on their cheekbones, which I'm interpreting as a mourning scar. In Coil's case, he also copied decorative scars his Driver had, which is considered excessive.

The scar the Ace is pointing to is for Jan, who dies in _Rota_ , chapter 3. There is definitely a suggested element of self-harm here, based on where the scars are placed (you can see the Ace's inner forearm scars in the movie).

This theme of “keep going” is a central theme to the series. When the Ace says “It's what the Witnessed would want you to be doing,” this is a reference to his lost sister, in _Rota_.

Win and Coil were definitely very close. Their relationship was not only professional but also romantic and sexual. 

Besides the handful of War Pups the Ace trains, he's in charge of the lot in general, even the ones who do no more than work the farms. Accordingly, he's too busy to keep an eye on Furiosa, which means Furiosa's alliance with Coil saves both of them a lot of trouble.

While I was writing _Vulnera_ , Geoduck suggested that the Driver-Lancer partnership might be the closest analogy in War Boy Society to marriage, so this little ceremony suggests that. Various people are watching, including the Ace, but Furiosa has more things to worry about so she doesn't notice.

Coil retiring his old wheel means that he has to permanently set his past with Win aside.

The Ace very intentionally stays away from escorting Furiosa and Coil to the FDK.

Furiosa spent a lot of time polishing the chrome and wondering why she was told not to clean the windows too. This is in reference to some picture I saw from the Fury Road set where someone had doodled some obscene slogans/pictures onto a dusty car windshield.

The lanterns are borrowed from various augmented crew members. It's a sign of Coil's popularity that there are so many.

The first unattributed speaker is Tran, Dart's Driver, who I think may be a sarcastic son of a bitch. Tran and Dart are Coil's friends and will be Coil and Furiosa's rival crew in _Vulnera_ , but it is a very friendly rivalry.

There's a general sense that sex is both allowed and expected between crewmates. However, romantic love is rare. For example, in _Euphoria_ , Morsov's situation in chapter 4 is a lot more dire; it's implied heavily that he has no choice.

Coil figures Furiosa is going back to the War Pup nest, which is why he brings up the Ace.

It would actually be bad for both their reputations, by making it seem as if they don't like each other much.

Coil's bad at angsting, so he quits while he's ahead.

I haven't written about it in detail, but the idea is that by Fury Road, Max is actually wearing Furiosa's black dustwrap and Furiosa is wearing Coil's (the same ones described here).

Drivers get paid in more food bars than Lancers or Revheads.

The tin is one of those blue and white Danish butter cookie tins that never has cookies in it, just sewing implements. Even after nuclear holocaust and mankind's descent into a post-apocalyptic hellscape, those tins still only have sewing things in them. Now I want Danish butter cookies.

The embroidery frame is metal because wood is rare and much too valuable.

Tfuriosa suggested that the Many Mothers had a lot of weavers and cloth workers, so here I am borrowing her headcanon.

Instead of learning the trade, Furiosa trained to be in the Vuvalini. I haven't written much about this yet but I think the early training included mechanical skills and celestial navigation, as opposed to working cloth, which is why she knows how to sew but she's not very good at it.

Ironically, the moment when Coil switches to the intimate 'I' is the moment that they are emotionally most distant, because he can't understand the emotional impact of Furiosa losing her mother. They come from fundamentally different experiences and belief systems.

Coil is about 21, and Furiosa is 15, so they're six years apart.

The Ace couldn't sleep because he was worried about Furiosa, afraid that he had made a bad decision, not knowing if Coil would be a gentleman about their arrangement. So he's very relieved to find that they slept apart.


	7. Coil: Character Information

"...the strong falcon nose, his high cheekbones and dark-drawn brow..."

Coil was originally intended to be the Lancer on the Elvis car (the front escort vehicle for the War Rig), who asks the Ace what's going on but since that turned out to be Morsov after I had written some critical scenes in the series, one could consider my series an AU where that Lancer is someone else. Because of that, I have some freedom in terms of describing Coil. I've been trying to flesh out some of his looks better, because I know definitely him more by personality than by his appearance.

**Personality** :  
Hard-working and decent, Coil is a Driver with a firm but fair hand in terms of running his crew, both on and off the car. He is generally cheerful and good-natured, respected and liked by his peers. Calm and collected in battle, generally keeps his feelings under control. Coil has a tiny poetic bent, though it only comes out rarely and only in private. 

**Background** :  
Citadel-bred and born, Coil is half-Persian on his mother's side. His mother is a former wife of Immortan Joe and a Milking Mother, and his father(s) are the two Imperators seen on top of the Gigahorse in the movie (I believe they're sometimes called 'Frank and John'), though it's not clear which one fathered Coil as even they don't know. However, his parents have little to no direct influence in his life. The only real benefit Coil receives is that as a Citadel-bred War Boy, he's healthier than most others; a full-life who does not suffer from lumps.

Coil was separated from his parents and sent to the War Tower at around 3 years old. As a boy he did all the usual types of War Pup jobs around the Citadel, like working on the farms, working around the auto shops, and running errands/messages. At 14, he was promoted to Revhead. A little over four years later, at around 18 years old, Coil was promoted to Lancer and rode with a Driver named Win (Nguyen) for three years. 

Win and Coil were very close; they were 'best crewmates' which means partnership in not only work but also love. This sort of relationship is considered by some to be an ideal, a romanticized Driver-Lancer partnership, but many others consider it a bad idea because too much feeling can make one's war game weak.

Despite being an augmented escort driver, Win was killed while filling in for someone on the daily patrol. Though he was assured that Win was Witnessed, Coil asked around and came to the conclusion that it was likely no one Witnessed Win's death. Vindictive, Coil broke that Lancer's nose in a fight and personally campaigned to get the Lancer busted down to a shop-bound Revhead.

Devastated after Win's death, Coil was promoted to Driver in Win's place, inheriting Win's car, the FDK. Rumor has it that in his grief he tried to turn this down. Early in his career as Driver, Coil went through a series of trial runs with Lancers without settling on one, causing some friction. 

The Ace stepped in and matched him to Furiosa. Besides the fact that Coil needed a Lancer in order not to lose his drive, the Ace picked Coil for his good character and his network of alliances that would help protect Furiosa from the Prime Imperator. The Ace convinced Coil to take Furiosa on a trial run to Bartertown. Impressed by her performance and professionalism despite her relative youth and inexperience, Coil eventually decides to form a crew with her. Though at first it was purely due to formality, the two now call each other "Driver" and "Lancer" as fond nicknames.

Having lived in the Citadel all his life, Coil has a vague idea of what life is like in the Immortan's Tower for the women, and by circumstantial evidence, Coil knows that the Prime Imperator had assaulted Furiosa in the past. As such, Coil is careful to be respectful of Furiosa's personal space. However, until they truly became friends, both put up a front of easy camaraderie in public so as not to give others the wrong impression.

After Furiosa loses her arm and is promoted to Imperator (as shown in _Fortuna_ ), Coil is promoted to Half-life Noble alongside the Ace and others.

Coil dies in Fury Road, the first casualty of Furiosa's escape. He is the Lancer on the front escort that is thrown off in enemy territory when it hits a trap. The car that Furiosa and Coil rode together in their partnership, the FDK, is destroyed by Furiosa in defense of Max toward the end of Fury Road.

He is also the father of Glory the Child (as mentioned in _Gloria_ chapter 9).

**Height** :  
10.5 hands tall, the same height as the Ace (approximately 6'0.5" to 6'1.5"). For reference, I've been imagining Max, Furiosa, and Morsov at about 10 hands. Generally I've been using ~6.9"-7"/hand (17.5cm-17.8cm/hand) measure, using Tom Hardy's height to make the conversion from inches to hands.

**Build** :  
Medium, closer to Morsov in the movie than Slit, lighter in build than the Ace. In _Fortuna_ , Morsov is younger and leaner (about 23 vs Coil's 31), which is why Morsov is described as lighter in build than Coil .

**General description** :  
Coil would have dark brown hair, almost black, if it were allowed to grow, and would be curly/wavy like Glory the Child's hair if it were ever long enough. Part of the reason he's called Coil is because he was born with curly hair. 

White forehead as a Driver (Furiosa's is darkened as his Lancer) and dark forehead as a Lancer (Furiosa's is white). Blackened eyesockets when he goes outside the Citadel to reduce glare.

Not very picky about his white, kind of like the Ace in that way; usually misses a few spots unless Furiosa points it out, often lets his hair/beard grow a little too long (gets fuzzy and scruffy) and doesn't reapply as regularly as someone like Slit.

Blue eyes, almost identical to Glory the Child. 

**Scars/Brands** :  
Citadel brand (of course)

Sun wheel rosette on right bicep, surrounded by flames, moon wheel rosette on the left. (geometric art style; Morsov has something basically the same). The flames are mourning scars for Win, and similar to the Ace's.

Coiled spirals of springs on his chest, with a small one over his heart (like Neolithic art; distinct from Morsov's marks that look more like stacked tires). The small one was put on by Win, most of the others were mourning scars put on after.

Various nicks and scars along his forearms and sides from years of being a Lancer. No notable scars on his back.

**Clothing** :  
Standard issue War Boy attire with a black dust wrap (similar to Furiosa's in the movie) and goggles for the road. This changes to red after an early chapter of _Ecstasia_ (not yet posted at this time). Moderate amount of tools, not too many and not too few. A gray, tattered bracelet made from braided fabric on his right wrist.

**Hobbies/Interests** :  
Embroidery, and that “Here Comes a Young War Boy from Botany Bay” game where one crewmate sits on the others' shoulders, various crews split up to form teams, and hijinks ensue. Oh, and Polecats, once a year during War Games since he lost Win (though he stops doing this at the end of _Euphoria_ ).


End file.
